I Know the Plans I Have for You
by MamaStreet
Summary: Life doesn't usually turn out the way you think it will. Nativity scenes from Joseph's perspective.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_"__And Joseph, the man to whom Mary was betrothed, being a righteous man and not wanting to disgrace her, planned to send her away, secretly. But when he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream saying, 'Joseph, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife; for the child who has been conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you shall call him Jesus, for he will save the people from their sins.'" Matthew 1:19-20_

The sweet scent of wood shavings filled the small shop. Yosef stepped back from the wooden cradle and gave it a long, measured look. This was an entirely self-indulgent project, one he kept hidden under a cloth while he worked on other items for customers. Because this cradle was for his own children…at least it would be, once he had any. The dream was closer to a reality now than it had ever been. He and Miriam were to be married. And then, if the Lord willed it, the cradle could be put to use.

The sides of the small wooden bed were finally even, but running his hand over them, Yosef noticed the right edge wasn't quite as smooth as the left. He reached once more for the plane, but before he could finish off the rough spot, there was a soft knock at the doorway. In one swift motion, he threw the cloth back over the cradle and turned toward the door. A slow grin spread across his face seeing his soon to be father-in-law. But the older man did not return his smile.

"Good morning, Yosef," Eli said solemnly. "I hoped I would find you alone this morning. I have something rather serious to discuss with you. An unfortunate happenstance."

Yosef felt suddenly cold. Miriam had changed her mind. Of course she had. Some part of him had always wondered if she would. She was lovely and clever and he was just… himself. A good carpenter, a good provider. Not bad looking, but not really what one would call classically handsome. His nose was a little big and his hair was too kinky. His hands were rough and calloused like the wood he worked on. His mother said he had nice eyes, but she was the only one. Steady. That was the word people usually used to describe him. _You know, Yosef, Yaacob's middle son. The quiet one. Not really a quick lad, but he's steady. He won't be causing his parents any grief. A good worker, that one. _Steady. He supposed it sounded better than boring anyway.

"I understand," Yosef nodded, staring down at the floor. "I'm afraid I've spent about half of the dowry preparing the house and purchasing lumber from some traders coming up from Egypt, but I can return the rest. I know it's customary to keep it, but I wouldn't feel right about that."

Eli looked suddenly years older, his face creased in grief and confusion. "So you've heard then," he mumbled. "I'd hoped to get to you first, but I…I understand. Who did you hear it from?"

Yosef shook his head. "I haven't heard anything. I just…I suppose I always expected something like this to happen."

The older man slumped down onto a bench by the door. "Have I been blind?" he whispered. "Blind to my daughter's sin? If even you are not surprised by this scandal…" Eli dropped suddenly to his knees and reached for Yosef's sandals. "Will you demand she be stoned ?" he gasped out. "You are within your rights, but I beg of you…"

Yosef stared down in shock as Eli's voice became choked and tears dripped onto his feet. "Eli what are you saying?" he exclaimed, reaching down and hauling the man to his feet. "What sin has Miriam committed? I…I thought you were coming to say she had changed her mind and no longer wanted to marry me!"

Eli seemed incapable of speech, his mouth opening and closing as he stared at Yosef. The carpenter gently led him back to the bench and sat beside him. "What is going on?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"We thought it was a dream. Maybe she was just over excited planning for the wedding. Or maybe she was getting ill, some fevers bring on delusions, you know. We thought a rest would help. She wanted to visit one of our relatives, Elisheva. Her husband, Zechariah is priest of the Temple. But when she returned my wife confirmed that she had missed…that her time…that the monthly… And now what are we to do?! You are a righteous man, Yosef. I abhor the scandal for you as much as for her."

Yosef frowned trying to follow the stumbling speech. "Eli you must slow down and begin at the beginning. Did something happen in the time she's been away?"

"Miriam is with child," the older man said, cringing as the words left his mouth.

A sudden nauseous roiling in Yosef's stomach competed with the desire to punch something, or someone. Preferably the someone who had attacked or coerced or seduced the woman he loved. The someone who was responsible for ruining his hopes and plans.

"Whose is it?" Yosef asked, scarcely recognizing the angry growl coming from his own mouth.

Eli shook his head wearily. "I don't know. That is why we sent her away. She says a messenger from God came to her. An angel of Yahweh named Gabriel. She says this child is from God Himself, a king to reign over Israel forever. She says it is the Messiah."

What was she thinking? It was lunacy to try and pretend something like that. Surely Miriam was smart enough to realize that no one would take her seriously."Impossible." Yosef stated flatly. "She must be trying to shield the man who did this."

A bewildered lift of the shoulders accompanied another head shake. "I don't know what to make of it. She refuses to recant this wild story. If it were one of her sisters perhaps I could make sense of it… Dinah would be the one to try and cover something up, but not my Miriam… You chose her, Yosef, do you really believe she is capable of such…such deceit?"

"You said yourself the punishment for this sin is death. I think people would be capable of a great deal of deceit to escape that judgement." Was that his voice speaking so harshly? Yosef couldn't remember ever feeling so angry.

Eli crumpled. "Will you inform the elders?" he whispered brokenly. "I…I will not speak against you. She has said it is not yours, and the town knows you to be a righteous man."

Was he righteous? The fury coursing through him at the moment suggested he was not. At least, not as righteous as he appeared to be. He was angry and vengeful. Someone had taken what was rightfully his. The dreams he'd cherished, the girl he loved. It was all gone. Shattered by a selfish lust. And then to top it off with blasphemous lies! To invoke the name of Yahweh trying to cover up their sin! Didn't they deserve punishment?

_I delight in mercy more than sacrifices._

The quiet whisper in his heart surprised him, cutting through the tumult of his emotions. They were the words of the prophet Hosea. Words among thousands of others Yosef had tried and failed to memorize. He had always struggled to recall the Tanak more than his brothers, so when he did remember something it felt like God was speaking directly to him.

Yosef sighed, his anger abating as a profound heartache took its place. He could demand her execution, but that would hardly delight the Lord. He would only be sacrificing Miriam on the altar of his own anger. And when it was over his conscience would berate him for the act of vengeance. Calling off the wedding and denying the child was his would create a scandal, casting a shadow on her whole family. What was the merciful thing to do?

"I will not have Miriam stoned," he finally said. "You can use the rest of her dowry to send her away somewhere. Claim some sort of illness. The gossip will surely die down soon."

Eli's grief was still evident despite his relief at the words. "You are indeed a kind and righteous man, Yosef ben Yaacob. I will offer sacrifices on your behalf for the rest of my days. Thank you for sparing my daughter."

Yosef could only nod, feeling as stiff and wooden as the bench they sat on. He watched Eli leave the shop in silence before his eyes were drawn over to the hidden cradle. Anger rose once more to the surface as he stood and yanked the cover away, a shaft of sunshine highlighting the beautiful red streaks of the wood. One of the best pieces he'd ever made, a labor of love. And now it was meaningless.

Yosef lifted the wooden cradle and slammed it down onto the stone floor, the wood cracking and splintering apart. He had spared Miriam but sacrificed his own hopes and dreams. Was that pleasing to God? A sacrifice of a broken heart?

He decided not to tell his family what had happened until he could think through things for a little while. Despite what Eli had said, there would still be a scandal. Not perhaps as awful as being thrown over by a fiancé who was carrying someone else's child, but calling off a wedding after so many months of planning and preparation? There would be some who blamed him, some who deemed him unworthy of a wife and family of his own. And Yosef had to admit to himself that the most horrible part was he still wanted Miriam as his wife. He'd never wanted anyone else. Her laughter, her long dark hair, her faith. She breathed the stories of God. Yosef had teased her that she'd have been happier living in the old days, worshipping in the glory of Solomon's temple.

As the discouraging thoughts swirled around in his head, he finally fell into a restless sleep, his dreams plagued by Miriam. She was laughing and ran from him as he reached for her, bare feet racing soundlessly toward another man, a man wreathed in light. When she reached the other man Miriam fell to her knees at his feet, her clear voice carrying back to Yosef, _May it be done to me as you have said._ Yosef approached them but Miriam suddenly disappeared and the man turned to face him, the brilliance of the light around him blinding, forcing Yosef to shield his eyes.

"Yosef, descendant of David!" his voice thundered out.

Yosef fell before him, and the man's voice dropped to a gentler tone, "Do not be afraid to take Miriam as your wife. The child she carries is of the Spirit of God. She will bear a son and you will name him Yeshua. This name means Yahweh saves. And the child will save the people from their sins."

Yosef awoke with a start, heart pounding and clothes damp with sweat. What was that? He'd never had a dream like that. Was it a vision? A message from God like the one Miriam had claimed to have?

He stumbled from his bed and slipped out into the night, turning south to face Jerusalem. But his mind faltered over the prayers. Why could he never remember the Scriptures when he wanted to? What did that Psalm say? "Be gracious to me," he whispered into the darkness. "I am lonely and…and afflicted…" What was the next part? "Bring me out of my distress…" He knew that wasn't quite right. "I don't have the words to pray," he pleaded desperately, staring up at the shimmering stars.

_The righteous man will live by his faith._

Yosef sighed. There it was again — this whisper of God's words. If being merciful was sparing Miriam, what would it mean to live by faith?

_Therefore the Lord Himself will give you a sign: behold a virgin will be with child and bear a son._

He hissed in a breath, the exhale a puff of cloud in the chilly air. What if Miriam was telling the truth? Was that possible?

In a move that was wholly unlike him, Yosef raced to Miriam's home, heedless of the cold or the late hour. His insistent knocking finally roused the household, Eli and his wife and children clustered around the doorway, watching him warily.

"I need to speak with Miriam, please," he panted, trying to catch his breath.

Their group parted and the young woman stepped out, bleary eyed and hair tousled, watching him hesitantly. "Yosef I'm so sorry. I know how hard it must be…"

"When you saw the angel," he interrupted, "what did he say about the child?"

Miriam reached eagerly for his hand. "Do you believe me? Oh, Yosef I knew you would! You have such faith. I never would have…"

"Miriam, please," Yosef said frantically. "Did the angel say what to name the child?"

"Yeshua," she said in surprise. "He said it would be a boy and to call him Yeshua because—"

"Because he will save people from their sins," Yosef finished softly.

Miriam nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "You've seen him," she whispered. "You've seen the messenger from the Lord."

Yosef ran a hand through his wild hair, and huffed a disbelieving laugh. "I did," he admitted. "So…yes, I do believe you. And I don't want to call off the wedding."

A cheer rose up from her family still huddled in the doorway, and was quickly stifled. Miriam bit her lip worriedly. "People will still talk," she said. "They will say that you…that we…"

_As for you, Bethlehem, from you one will go forth for Me to be ruler in Israel._

_Bethlehem_? thought Yosef confusedly. Why would the Lord bring those words to his mind? It was from the prophet Malachi…no wait…Micah… "The census!" he blurted out.

Miriam looked puzzled. "What about the census?"

"I have to go to Bethlehem to register. I have lots of family there, we can stay until after the baby comes. People are going to talk anyway, but we won't have to stay here and listen to all of it."

The joy and hope reflected in her face made her even more beautiful, and Yosef reached out to brush a wayward strand of hair off of her face. She grasped his hand and brought it down to cup her cheek. "You are a treasure," she said softly. "And I know I am not to really speak of such things, but you have the loveliest, kindest eyes. Did you know that?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_"__And while they were in Bethlehem the days were completed for her to give birth. __And she gave birth to her first born son; and she wrapped him in swaddling clothes __and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn." __Luke 2:6-7_

Yosef winced as another muffled cry came from the next room. Barak patted him on the shoulder. "The first baby is always the hardest. Hardest to deliver and hardest to wait for. Not to worry. Huldah is the most experienced midwife in Bethlehem."

Yosef nodded, unconvinced. Their trip hadn't turned out quite like he'd expected. The town was overflowing with temporary residents there to register with the Roman government so Caesar knew every subject to squeeze more taxes out of. The wealthier relatives, or maybe just the ones who weren't engaged to a girl starting to show her pregnancy, had been crammed into every guest room his extended family had available.

His father's second cousin, Barak, had been the only one to offer them a place to stay at all, in the small lean-to attached to their home where the best lambs were kept to be sold for sacrifices in the Temple. Since the shepherding family was still waiting for the ewes to deliver this season, the room was empty and clean, mercifully free of straw and animal dung.

"Is it true what Miriam said?" asked Hannah, the youngest of Barak's granddaughters. "Is this baby the Messiah? Will he unite the old kingdom?"

"He has to get rid of the Romans first," added her brother, Benaiah. "We will take up our swords like the Maccabees and —"

"That's enough," interrupted the children' father. "It is late and we should get back to our own house for your supper."

"But we wanted to stay and see the new baby!" wailed Hannah.

"You may see the baby tomorrow," said Barak, tousling the child's hair. "Babies can take a long time to be born. Go now with your father. Your mother will stay and help your _savta_ to bring the little one into the world just like you've seen your father and uncles help me with the lambs."

"Reuben gets to stay up all night watching the sheep tonight," groused Benaiah. "I wanted to tell him I got to stay up and see the Messiah."

"Come, Benaiah," admonished his father, herding the children out of the door. "We will check in on you tomorrow Abba," he added, nodding to Barak.

Barak stepped out to wave his goodbyes and then returned to the house, easing himself tiredly onto a stool. "It's quite a story Miriam is telling," he remarked. "But you, Yosef, have been far quieter about it."

A longer, more strident cry was heard from the lean-to and Yosef began pacing back and forth. "I stay quiet because I know how it all must sound," he murmured.

Barak nodded. "Yes, it sounds like a crazy story to explain away the fact that your fiancé is expecting a child long before the wedding. I didn't like to bring it up. In this world are there not worse sins? But filling the grandchildren's heads with it…that is another matter. I let you stay in my home, I would appreciate the truth."

Yosef stopped his pacing and faced the old man. "What Miriam has said is true. We were each visited by a messenger from the Lord. What exactly Yahweh intends to do I can not say, but this child is not mine. He is anointed from heaven to save us. I know it sounds crazy. It is crazy! But has not the God of Abraham done many crazy things before? This is what we repeat to ourselves each year as we travel to Jerusalem. What other nation has a God like ours? A God who parts seas and rivers. A God who brings forth water from rocks and drops food from the sky? A God who brings down city walls and defeats our enemies with angelic armies?"

Barak leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. "It is true what you say," he admitted. "No nation has a God like ours…although He has been a little quiet in the miracle department lately," he added dryly.

The men sank into silence, waiting and listening for the activity in the next room. After several minutes Barak spoke again, startling Yosef from his pacing. "You know, last spring I sold a lamb to a man at the Temple named Simeon. He prophesied that the Consolation of Israel was coming in his lifetime. He fasts and prays eagerly for the very thing you say is now upon us. And the prophet Isaiah said it would be a child who would come establish the new kingdom." He nodded thoughtfully, more to himself, as he added, "I believe you, Yosef. I will have faith with you and Miriam than the things God has spoken will come to pass."

Yosef opened his mouth to thank him when a sobbing scream tore through the air, followed by excited female voices and finally a newborn's demanding cry. He thought for a moment he might force his way into the room to make sure Miriam and the baby were all right, but then the door opened and Barak's daughter-in-law, Ruth, appeared with the child in her arms. "I just wanted to say that everything went well," she beamed. "You have a fine son, Yosef. I will clean and wrap the baby while Huldah sees to Miriam. You can be with them both in a little while."

He could only nod dumbly while Barak came over and thumped him on the back. "There! You see? Hard, but worth the wait! And a boy, just like the Lord told you. Now come, sit here and have a cup of wine. You shouldn't look so shaky. It was Miriam who did the hard work!"

Yosef allowed Barak to lead him over to the table and press a cup of wine into his hands. He could hear the chatter of the women and the soft sounds of the baby as they cleaned things up and got Miriam settled. Finally Huldah stepped out. "You may go in and see them now, Yosef," she said with a half-smile.

Barak clapped his hands. "Well, my girl! How did it feel to deliver the Messiah?"

Huldah sniffed and and made a skeptical face. "That remains to be seen. All I know is the baby was born just like all the other babies I've delivered and his hair is just as wild as yours," she added to Yosef, who was already through the doorway into the small lean-to and kneeling beside Miriam.

"How are you?" he asked anxiously, reaching out to gently touch her hand.

"That was the hardest work I've ever done in my life," Miriam said with a quiet laugh. "Here, hold him, Yosef. He is such a strong boy."

Yosef took the child with shaking hands, running a wondering finger over his soft cheeks and dark lashes. And Huldah was right, a cap of curly, dark hair covered his head, much like Yosef's own. His eyes stung for a moment. Part of him had feared he would not be able to love this child who was not truly his, but his chest was tight with emotion, marveling at the fact that God would choose Miriam, would choose him, to raise an anointed king of Israel. "Yeshua," he breathed.

Sleepy eyes opened at the sound and blinked up at him. Yosef caressed his head and cradled him close to his chest, rocking him gently. "I'm sorry you don't have a cradle," he whispered. "I was so confused and angry, and…well, it was selfish. But we'll figure out something."

The baby squirmed and rooted toward his chest and Yosef laughed softly. "Why don't we leave feeding up to your mother and leave finding a bed up to me?" He settled Yeshua once more into Miriam's arms and stepped back to look around the small room. Surely there was something here he could use to construct a cradle…

The small feeding trough was shoved into a corner, filled with coils of rope and a few empty oil jars. Yosef cleared the items and slid the box over to the side of the room where the lamp threw a circle of light beside Miriam's small bed. Running his hands over the sides and edges of the cradle he noted only a couple rough spots. He retrieved his plane from his pack of tools and set to work, the soft scraping sound on the wood rhythmic and soothing.

By the time he finished, Miriam was dozing off, Yeshua cradled in her arms. Yosef bundled up his spare cloak and a small blanket and nestled it into the bottom of the feeding trough. Well-fed and sound asleep, the little boy didn't stir as he was moved from his mother's arms to his own little bed. Settling down beside Miriam, his heart full, Yosef quickly drifted off to sleep himself, a prayer of thankfulness his last conscious thought.

Sometime between the third and fourth feeding, or maybe the fourth and fifth? Who could keep track as they woke, changed soiled clothes, settled down for another nursing session, and dozed off again to only be woken in another hour or so? Whatever time it was, it was still dark when Yosef became aware of pounding and several voices shouting excitedly from the small house. He struggled to his feet and patted Miriam's shoulder reassuringly as she looked around in confusion at the noise.

"I'll see what it is," he said, but before he could take two steps the door burst open and half a dozen men stumbled into the room, talking over each other and tripping over their own feet hurrying towards Miriam. Yosef stepped in front of her, holding his arms out placatingly. "What is going on?" he asked sternly. "Why are you here?"

They all began speaking at once, each raising his voice to be heard above the others, waving their arms excitedly until Yosef roared, "Enough! You, Reuben," he directed, recognizing another of Barak's grandchildren. "Tell me what this is about."

The teenager grinned, pleased to be the center of attention. "We were out in the fields," he said eagerly. "This was my first night to stay out the entire time with the others. And we had a fire going and were just sitting around talking and eating some of the food my mother had packed. Then Azariah started to say something, I think it was going to be a joke, but my uncle, Hiram, told him to shut up that I wasn't old enough to hear about things like that, and they started arguing a little, and then…"

"Reuben," Yosef interrupted, "you need to tell me right now why you all burst in here when Miriam has just had her baby and we are trying to get a little bit of sleep."

At the mention of the baby, Reuben's eyes grew wide and he craned his neck to try and see around Yosef to the bundle in the feeding trough that was beginning to wiggle and make protesting cries. "It's true," the boy gasped. "Just like the angel said."

"What angel?"

An older shepherd stepped forward and dropped to his knees. "The messenger of heaven appeared out of the darkness, shining, brilliant, as if the pillar of fire that appeared to Moses had returned to us. It was terrifying. I finally understood why our ancestors had begged Moses to intercede for them, so they did not have to face the Lord God themselves."

"The angel told us not to be afraid," another man added softly, watching the baby as though mesmerized. "He said that he was bringing us good news, good news for all people."

"A savior had come for Israel," a burly man in the back taking up the tale. "The Messiah. And the sign would be that we would find the baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a feeding trough for animals. Such a strange thing…" His voice trailed off, disbelieving, as he took a shaky breath and swiped at his eyes.

"Then more angels appeared. They filled the sky," the older man said, "praising God. Never in my days have I heard such a sound. I wanted to weep and laugh and shout all at once."

"And so I said my _savta_ would be sure to know if there had been a baby born this night," said Reuben. "_Saba_ says she is the best midwife in Bethlehem. Although we couldn't imagine why anyone would put a baby in an animal's feed box. So we came here, and…and here you are. And the baby is in the trough for my _saba_'s lambs. Your baby is the Messiah."

Yosef looked at Miriam who smiled and shrugged bemusedly. "Let them see the baby, Yosef," she said softly. "Let them meet Yeshua."

He stooped down to lift the little one into his arms, turning so the men could see him clearly. The baby quieted at once being held, and the shepherds drew a collective breath. One by one they approached and reverently placed their hands on his head, murmuring prayers of blessings and gratitude.

"I must tell my family what I have seen," the burly man that kept to the back of the group said in wonder.

The others nodded. "The sheep will keep for the night," the oldest man said. "God will be their shepherd tonight. We must share this miracle."

"I had just heard in the synagogue, the elders reading from the scroll of Isaiah about the branch that grows from the stump of Jesse's tree," Reuben said as the rest filed out, reluctant to leave. "He will set everything right. And to think…I was one of the first to meet him."

"Come, Reuben," Barak called from the doorway. "Let the Messiah get some sleep. I will walk you home and you can tell your parents what has happened." He caught Yosef's eye as he pulled the door after him. "It would appear God is not quite finished in the miracle department after all," he said with a smile.

Yosef nodded to him and carefully knelt down to once more change the cloths and pass the baby over to nurse. Miriam's hands were trembling as she took her son, pressing a kiss to his head and cuddling him against her breast. "Are you all right?" he asked her. "Do you have any pain?"

Miriam shook her head. "No, it just…what the boy said reminded me of something."

"What did it remind you of?"

"The other passage from Isaiah that says a branch will come that…that is afflicted," she said softly, tears starting to gather in her eyes. "That he will be despised and forsaken, because he will bear the sins of many. Is that…could that be also what awaits our son?"

_Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid, for the Lord your God is the one who goes with you. He will not fail you or forsake you._

Yosef knelt beside her and wrapped his arms around both Miriam and the nursing baby. "Shhh, don't cry. This has been a long and overwhelming day. We will not borrow trouble from our future. We will pray. Be strong and wait for God to answer." Miriam nodded and Yosef brushed her hair back tenderly, praying for them both to have the strength to face whatever might be ahead of them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 **

_"__And when the Magi had gone, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream __and said, 'Get up! Take the child and his mother and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; __for Herod is going to search for the child destroy him.' So Joseph got up and took the child __and his mother while it was still night, and left for Egypt." Matthew 2:13-14_

_They had been walking for hours. One foot after the other on the hard packed earth, following the road south to the Negev._

_"__Perhaps we should stop and rest for a while."_

_The quiet words coming from Mattithiah, the thickset shepherd who worked with Barak, were not really a suggestion, and Yosef nodded, chiding himself to be more gracious. The man had packed up his family and followed them without hesitation, joining Barak and Hulduh with their sons and families. It was not unusual for whole family groups to travel together, since everyone made regular visits to Jerusalem for the feasts and festivals, but it was unusual for them to just up and leave in the middle of the night, waking several neighbors with the ruckus of rousing sleeping children and trying to herd a flock of uncooperative sheep ahead of them in the dark._

_The first day of travel was well underway and party was slowing down, ready for food and a respite. Yosef turned and waved at the group behind them, signaling the stop. "Have you remembered any more details from your dream?" Mattithiah asked softly, removing a heavy pack from his shoulders._

_"__No," he replied with a sigh, adjusting his own pack, which was digging in uncomfortably. "Just that the king would be looking for Yeshua to kill him and we were to stay in Egypt until the Lord says otherwise."_

_"__Kings do not like to share power," Mattithiah remarked with a philosophical shrug. "And is not the Lord at work even in this — proving your son is the anointed king? Those Gentile soothsayers left hearth and home to come and pay homage to a Hebrew…in Bethlehem of all places. Who could compel them to do such a thing except God?"_

_"__Are all shepherds so pensive?" asked Yosef with a slight laugh, which quickly became a yawn._

_"__We have more time to sit and ponder things than most professions," the man replied with a rumbling chuckle._

_"__Here, Yosef, hold Yeshua for a bit while the women and I prepare some food," Miriam said as she came up beside the men and handed over the squirming toddler._

_"__Ba ba ba!" the boy chattered, eagerly reaching for Yosef. "Abba!"_

_Yosef smiled, and gladly took him, as the child twisted around in his arms and tried to look at everything from the higher vantage point. He had spent the hours being carried on his mother's back in a sling made from an extra shawl and appeared less tired than bored. "Come, let's go see the sheep."_

_The two worked their way among the piles of belongings that had been abandoned as people divided up to gather wood for fires, unpack food, and scout out any fresh water. Reuben and his brother, Benaiah, were keeping an eye on the flock at the back of their company as the animals took advantage of the stop to snatch up any nearby plant. Yosef sought out a placid looking ewe laying down in some shade on the hard packed earth and set Yeshua down in front of her. The child's wide, dark eyes studied the ewe for a moment before reaching up to pat her nose. The animal made a soft huffing sound and nudged his hand._

_"__He really loves the sheep doesn't he?" Benaiah commented, his head tilted to one side as he watched them._

_"__Most animals so far," Yosef replied. "He likes to watch the birds in the morning and he seemed more interested in the camels yesterday than the visitors they carried."_

_The boy laughed, hoping back and forth from one foot to the other. "I saw the men arrive! The whole town stopped to watch the procession to your house. I would like to ride a camel someday like a rich man. My mother was going on and on about their clothes, and my savta said they gave you great boxes of gifts! Do you think when Yeshua is king he will let me ride one of his camels?"_

_"__I'm sure he will," Yosef replied, a strange twisting feeling in his stomach. Things had been so peaceful before those astrologers showed up. The boy was healthy and happy, he and Miriam finally had their wedding and set up a small workshop in Bethlehem, choosing to stay close to the family and friends that had supported them. Then came those emissaries from the east, acting like they were paying a state visit to his small house, presenting gold and costly spices and perfumes. It was too much happening too fast for him to understand it all. "You'd better catch that straggler," he added abruptly, gesturing toward a lamb wandering off from the flock. Benaiah raced after it, leaving him alone to watch his small son squat there in the dust beside the ewe and poke curiously at her. Yeshua seemed a perfectly normal child, although the older mothers had commented on how content he was, not fussy or demanding. But still, there didn't seem to be anything particularly kingly about him either._

_The little boy suddenly looked up at Yosef and reached out to pat his sandaled foot. "Ba," he said proudly. "Abba!"_

_"__Yes and no," Yosef sighed, lifting him up from the ground and onto his shoulders, keeping a firm grip on the small body. "But that is a conversation for another day."_

It was strange that those memories of their abrupt departure from Bethlehem would come to his mind now. The days of Egypt were almost a decade behind them. Herod was dead, no longer a threat, and Yosef had settled his family in Nazareth, taking up again the quiet daily life of a carpenter. Funny thing how memories worked—

"Yosef! Your supper is ready!"

He turned at Miriam's call and strode over to their campfire, settling down beside Yaacob, their second son. "Well, how have you kept yourself busy today on the road? Visiting with your cousins?"

The boy shrugged. "Some. I wish we could have stayed longer in Jerusalem after the Passover. I think when I'm grown up I will live in the city. It's more exciting than Nazareth."

"Hmmm," Yosef murmured noncommittally. "I'm not much one for excitement myself. Where are your brothers and sisters? They shouldn't keep your mother waiting."

"Yehudah is hanging on her skirts crying about something. The girls are over there." Yaacob looked around suddenly, frowning. "I haven't seen Yeshua all day, not since we left the city. I was going to ask him to tell us a story while we walked. He tells them better than when the scribes read the scrolls in the synagogue."

"Your brother isn't one to miss a meal. I'm sure he'll be along shortly."

But he wasn't. He didn't turn up at dinner or bedtime, and after working their way through the company, questioning every relative, Yosef and Miriam settled the younger children with Reuben and his family and headed back toward the city, searching out their lost son, Yosef berating himself for not noticing sooner that the boy was missing.

They looked for two days, combing the marketplace, asking every person they met in the street, even approaching the Roman guards to ask about slave traders and merchants that had passed through. It was a fruitless exercise. The city was teeming with people, and as many as were there, still more had already left now that the days of Passover were completed. No one had seen anything, no one seemed to care, and the two of them were sick with panic.

Returning to the small room they borrowed from a friend, Miriam cried herself to sleep as Yosef stared out the window at the Temple, exhausted from searching and worrying.

"What are you doing?" he whispered brokenly to God, running a hand though his wild and dusty hair. "Is this a punishment? Did I miss something? I know I am not the wisest or most educated of men. I have never thought myself the best man to raise this boy. What do I know of kings? But I thought I knew you. I have followed your Law, obeyed your commandments. Would you take your anointed one from Israel? You have been so quiet these years in Galilee."

_Do you question me about my children, or give me orders about the work of my hands?_

Yosef hissed in a surprised breath. That was…that was…his shoulders slumped in defeat. He had no idea where that scripture was from.

_Does the clay say to the potter, "What are you making?" Does your work say, "The potter has no hands?" Woe to the one who says to a father, "What have you begotten?" or to a mother, "What have you brought to birth?"_

Yosef let out a deep sigh, his eyes stinging. He supposed it didn't matter which prophet the Lord chose to speak through, the message was clear. He had no right to question what God was doing. He was an instrument to be used.

"I know Yeshua is not really mine, but…but he is. I love him. He is my son, and I want to find him. I want to know he is safe. If…if it's time for him to leave us and take his anointed place as the ruler of Israel, then…then tell us so."

_The Lord will accomplish what concerns you. The Lord's lovingkindness is everlasting. He does not forsake the work of his hands._

"That…that isn't really an answer."

But it was the only answer he got. And as he turned once more towards the window and began to pray, his spirit was at peace in the pleading.

The next morning he and Miriam started their search again, but after a short while Yosef stopped her and said, "I think we should go to the Temple and offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving."

Miriam blinked at him. "But we haven't found him yet."

"I know, but I think we need to acknowledge that God is still in control of this, even if we don't know what's going to happen."

Her large, dark eyes filled with tears. "I don't know that I can do that," she whispered. "I'm so frightened that something terrible has happened to him."

He pulled his wife into his arms, resting his cheek against her soft head covering. "You can," he murmured. "God doesn't despise your tears, but we have to trust Him."

He felt her nod against his chest and he held her a moment longer before leading her towards the Gate Beautiful. They stopped at a merchant and purchased a small unleavened cake to take in, and then passed through into the Women's Court, as they had just a few days before for the Passover. "Here," Yosef said, "go and ask around if anyone has seen him. I'll go through and present this to the priests."

Miriam moved away from him toward a cluster of women near the Nazarite Court, and Yosef continued through the Nicanor Gate into the Court of the Israelites. And there he suddenly heard a familiar voice saying, "The Law says you shall not commit murder, but isn't the anger that results in murder the true sin of a man's heart?"

Yosef's heart stopped as he spun around, his eyes frantically scanning the crowd. He had scarcely made out the familiar figure at the center of a group of teachers before he was there, shoving the men aside and dropping to his knees before his son.

"Yeshua!" he breathed, reaching out to tousle the curly mop of hair.

"Is this your boy?" asked one of the teachers. "Remarkable young man. Has the makings of a fine rabbi. I assume that's your intention for him?"

Yosef's tongue felt thick in his mouth, his northern accent sounding harsh in his own ears as he replied, "I believe someday he will teach many people about the things of God. Come, Yeshua," he said, gesturing back toward the gate. "Your mother would like to see you."

The boy came willingly, nodding respectfully to the elders as they patted his shoulder and bid him farewell. When they entered the women's court Miriam fairly flew at them, clinging to her son and kissing his head over and over again as she scolded him. "Why didn't you come with us? Do you have any idea how worried we were? Why would you treat us like this? Your father and I have been looking for you for three days! We've been sick with worry!"

Yeshua pulled away from her embrace and looked at her. "Why were you searching for me? Didn't you know I would be seeing to my father's affairs?"

"What on earth do you mean? The festival was over, you know your father didn't ask you to stay behind and offer extra sacrifices or hang around the Temple where you have no business being! Goodness, I would have expected something crazy like this from Shimon. Your bother is never around when I need him, but never from you."

The boy didn't offer another word in his defense. He merely smiled and gazed at his mother with dark eyes that were so like hers it caught Yosef off guard. There was a fierce compassion in them, almost a grief, and Yosef half expected the boy to tell them something dreadful and heartbreaking, like he planned to stay in Jerusalem and follow after one of the famous rabbis, like Gamaliel. Instead, Yeshua reached for their hands and walked with them away from the Temple.

"Thank you," Yosef prayed silently as they began the long trek back to Nazareth. "Thank you that we can have him a little while longer. If your plan is for him to study with the rabbis, then I will be ready to send him when the time comes. I will trust in your plan, Lord, whatever it might be."

_See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland._

* * *

**Epilogue **

_"__And He came to Nazareth, where He had been brought up; and as was His custom, __He entered the synagogue on the Sabbath, and stood up to read. __And the book of the prophet Isaiah was handed to Him." Luke 4:16-17_

Yeshua stared at the cabinet as one of the scrolls of Isaiah was taken out for the day's reading. So many days of his life had been spent listening to the scriptures in this synagogue, and he had always known that Yosef had constructed the ornate piece to house the scrolls of the Torah and other sacred writings. But God seemed to emphasize the memory today. His abba had been a righteous man, a good man. And in this moment Yeshua felt a pang of grief, missing the stalwart presence Yosef would have been as his own path turned down a road from which there would be no return.

The hazzan handed him the scroll, and he allowed himself one more long look at the cabinet before turning to the writing. _It won't be long before I will see you again, Abba_, he thought as he found the right place on the scroll. His voice was rich and strong as he began to read, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because He anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind, to set free those who are oppressed, to proclaim the favorable year of the Lord!"

Re-rolling the scroll and handing it back to the hazzan, Yeshua took his seat and faced the assembly, taking a deep breath. "Today," he announced, "this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."


End file.
